


Stay the night?

by WHUMPBBY



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other, Shiro is pining, There's a party, bittersweetish?, it's sfw, keith is dificult, lance cleans up nice, shance zine sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHUMPBBY/pseuds/WHUMPBBY
Summary: The strangest things were expected to happen in space, Shiro knew. He knew that, he tried to keep his mind open and eyes peeled, and tried to take things as they came - everything could happen.Apparently, there was even a part of space where Lance cleaned up nicely.





	Stay the night?

The strangest things were expected to happen in  _ space _ , Shiro knew. He knew that, he tried to keep his mind open and eyes peeled, and tried to take things as they came - everything could happen.

Apparently, there was even a part of space where Lance cleaned up nicely. 

Alright, that wasn’t very kind and Shiro scolded himself for that thought as soon as it appeared - it was a knee-jerk reaction more than anything. They’ve all had these little things that came up unasked, that were only to be expected when a handful of people lived in each other's pockets for close to three years now and knew each other’s habits and tics by memory. 

Pidge was too smart for her own good, Hunk cried over spilled milk, Keith was running into danger like his shirt was on fire and Lance - Lance flirted with space babes. These were the things they fell down onto when anything else would require more brainpower than any of them had to spare. 

Still, as soft at the edges as the sweet smelling wine made him, Shiro had to admit  that Lance’s game was only getting better and better with time. He has learned what tact is and how to keep his desperation from showing. The difference of three years of constant physical exertion also didn’t get in the way much...

The scrawny kid shoot up like a damn vine, but somewhere on the way lost his teenage gangliness and the awkward placement of all his thirteen elbows. His posture filled out with lean muscle - a true testament of the countless fights and training sessions, because Shiro knew that Lance was one of these guys who had problem building up mass. He never had trouble with it, personally, and pitied the poor thing back in the day - but now… now he thought that, hell, in the end it turned out  _ fine _ . 

(Alright, more than fine, Shiro would admit if someone twisted his arm hard enough.)

Where Keith grew wide in the shoulders and well defined, Lance had just enough meat on his bones to make it easy for him to handle the kickback of the various guns he usually employed in fight - and to make him seemingly attractive for most of the humanoid species they’ve encountered so far. Who would have thought that a swimmer’s built was the golden standard across all Space?

(Well, he did, but that was neither here nor there…)

Additionally, their current hosts - Selasians - seemed exceptionally easy to impress. If the one hanging off of Shiro’s own arm for most of the evening was anything to judge by.

Not that he had anything against, not at all. They were impossibly friendly - and that was a rare thing to be found in space - and kind hearted. Their planet was small, compared to Earth, and rather tropical in climate, overflowing with breathtaking flora and peaceful fauna. It was a jewel that Zarkon had absolutely no business of possessing.

Selasians themselves looked like some colourful off-shot of Alteans at the first glance - tall, slender, beautiful, kind and intelligent. They took to the Paladins and the Princess like they were all their long lost relatives. Pushing back Galran starships seemed like a formality more than anything else, the cherry on top that gave Selasians one more reason to celebrate.  

And celebrate they did.  

He could barely remember when the party has started exactly - with the pleasant music and good food that for once wasn’t jello-shaped, with all the helpful hands that appeared every time his wineglass became empty, refilling it for him… 

That - that was something they needed after the last hectic month. To see and participate in something light and happy after the losses and tragedy that their new life often threw at them with no warning whatsoever. They’ve learned to take respite whenever it was available, not wasting their chances on a slim hope that there will be a tomorrow to return to.

Shiro, after a few hours of mingling and drinking, found himself relaxed and kind of weightless. And from what he saw of his team, they weren’t any better. 

Of course he kept an eye on them, that was a habit he didn't imagine that he’ll ever be able to shake off. He needed to make sure they were safe and happy, and not committing some grave political faux pas (again, that is). Thankfully, everyone seemed to be doing just fine. Hunk and Pidge he could see in one corner of the spacious, multi-leveled ballroom, deep in discussion with the group of Selasians Shiro recognised as the engineers that a day before helped him fix up his Lion. 

Princess, he saw an hour before in the presence of the Queen herself, and both looked happy and content to watch the celebration unfold. 

Coran, surprisingly (or not, the man was a bottomless box of unexpected at this point), entertained a sizeable crowd near the musicians’ platform with some tale that required a lot of gesticulation. 

Lance, predictably, he was barely able to see through the throng of pretty young things surrounding him at all times, all soft-eyed, eager to laugh at his jokes and trying to touch him. Blue Paladin navigated through that mini crowd with ease, smiling all the while, sipping on the wine and apparently complementing each and every single one of his fans, judging by the pleased giggling and pale blue blushes spreading around. 

“Oh,” Shiro’s companion exclaimed in delight, when their eyes followed his line of sight and rested on the crowd around the Blue Paladin. “The Crown Prince has managed to evade his guards to see his heroes in person!”

Shiro looked closer and, sure thing, the Prince was there alright. A slight, adorable little creature that was still as tall as a grown human, but much - gentler. He watched the young Royal visibly gathering their courage, before they dared to speak over the group of giggling beauties. And when they did… Well, the blush blossoming on the lovely face was endearing and Shiro could swear that he can see Lance’s expression softening in reaction to it. 

“His Highness awaited your arrival with utmost impatience,” Shiro’s companion revealed findly. “He is your staunch admirer, Sir Shiro.”

Shiro already tried - and failed - to make them stop with the title. 

“Sir Lance is gracious indeed to make time for His Highness on such, hm, busy evening.”

Were they saying what Shiro thought they were saying? Their eyes were certainly glued to Lance in a very definitive fashion. Was is a dreamy sight he’s heard just now?

“Up close the Blue Paladin is really a sight to behold.” 

(Didn’t he know that!)

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed easily, reaching for another wineglass from a nearby floating tray. He needed to be drunk for  _ that  _ conversation. “Sometimes it’s the only reason we keep him on board.” 

The quip was taken lightly, his escort laughed airily and turned their attention back to him. “I am sure it makes many interactions across the Galaxy easier.” 

God, Shiro was ashamed to admit it, but yes, it did. Sending Lance along with Allura to negotiate usually added around 30% to their success rate. 

With a noncommittal shrug, he left the flirting congregation alone, hoping only that they won’t end up with another royal engagement for Allura to gently break off. 

As for the last of his team, Keith seemed to be - oh no. 

“Is everything alright?” Shiro’s escort inquired when the Paladin stiffened. The lovely creature rested a hand in the crook of his elbow and followed the line of his sight, seeing nothing suspicious.

Shiro, always the gentleman, kissed their knuckles. “I will be right back.”

His escort giggled, clearly charmed with the foreign gesture, and let him go with a promise to keep an eye on his drink. 

 

* * *

 

His attempt to intercept Keith, before he crossed the room was smooth - practice made perfect, after all. It was rarely this easy - stopping Keith mid-step once he’s decided on a trajectory was a challenge in on itself. 

Planting himself in front of him used to work until that one time when Hank got his sternum bruised, because Keith didn’t realise what obstructed his way until he smacked into it full-force. Since that time, a new strategy was decided upon.

“And  _ where  _ are  _ you  _ going?” 

Keith choked briefly when the collar of his nice,  _ official _ , shirt tightened unexpectedly around his neck - Shiro held on firmly, trusting the scientifically engineered fabric to hold. It did. Praise be to the Altean technology!

“Sh… Shiro?” Keith stammered, surprise blossoming on his face, replacing previous cold intent. “What…?”

Shiro sighed, releasing the material. So, it was a good call. Keith had that half-absent look in his eyes, the lost, unsure look that had no right to work on someone older than twelve, and  _ yet _ . Shiro’s hands itched to rest on these slumping shoulders, his instincts urged him to pull Keith close and try to get to the bottom of this newest space-out - but they were in public, and these things were not for the public’s eye. Paladins of Voltron had a visage to uphold, after all. 

“Shiro…?”

“Come on,” instead, he hooked his arm underneath Keith’s and pulled him into a relatively crowd free corner. “We will figure it out later. Now, please, act like you’re having fun.”

“But I am… I was having fun,” Keith mumbled, looking around like he lost something. Or someone. “I… damnit!” 

“Lost your escort?” 

“I…”

He lost his escort. 

Shiro sighed internally. 

He loved these kids, he really did, there was no option left to him, but to love them. But some of them were… more work to love than the others. 

“Come, drink something, relax.” 

They ended up on one of the sprawling balconies where the music was quieter and the air didn’t carry the mixture of various sweet perfumes. 

Keith sipped his wine slowly, eyes lowered, but Shiro could see the way they flashed sideways every few minutes. To the left, to be exact, where the crowd thickened around the Blue Paladin as the party went on. 

“He’s whoring himself out again.”

Shiro growled before he could think about it. “Keith!” 

A shade of a flush slipped across the Red Paladin’s face, shame and stubbornness mixing briefly. 

“You know what I mean,” Keith mumbled into his cup. 

“No, I don’t. Elaborate.”

The growl he got in return was telling, but Shiro wasn’t about to let this go. “Words.” 

And, honestly, a part of him wanted to snap something really unpleasant at his fellow Paladin, because for once Shiro was really glad to see Lance flirting. After - what happened during their last long mission. After the mining colony they were supposed to save was extinguished by Zarkon before they’ve managed to get everyone out of it. 

It hit them all hard, but Lance - Lance was the one responsible for keeping the Galra away that day and didn’t slip… until one miscalculation sent him spinning and broke their formation. And cost them dozens of lives. 

Now, a month later, Lance seemed to bounce back; he worked hard to get out of the dark hole he fell into that day. But there was this one thing that the Blue Paladin couldn’t seem to go back to - the girls. And Shiro wasn’t surprised, not at all. But, somehow, Lance didn't seem like himself when he was subdued and serious. And now? Maybe that was another sign of healing? 

“Keith?”

“He… acts like he can… do whatever he wants.” 

“Well, he can. Within reason, of course, but Lance knows it.” 

“But he can’t! We can’t get attached like that!”

“Hm? Like what? Like Hunk and Shay?” 

“That’s different!” Keith snapped without thought. 

Shiro’s eyebrow rose. “How?”

“...Hunk’s… different. He’s…” Keith was clearly casting for words. Trying to speak his mind was hard when his mind was a muddled mess, Shiro knew. He felt for the younger man who was forced to waddle through two sets of genes to express hismelf, but at the same time - Keith put him in the place of authority and he had to respect that choice. “He’s… different… Hunk’s… smart. He’s… “ he looked miserable. “It’s different.” 

Shiro lowered his voice. “Is it the - casts - thing again?” 

“I… I think.” 

“And how does it make it fair to speak like that about Lance?”

“He’s not supposed to do that!” 

Oh boy, that was another can of worms he didn’t want to touch with a ten feet stick. 

“Why?”

“Because he always goes too far! He falls for the first pretty face that shows interest in him and it always ends in trouble!”

Well, okay, that was a legitimate point. 

Like the girl from the colony that perished in the attack. 

Oh, Keith was trying to protect his teammate from further heartbreak… wasn’t he?

“Let him have fun tonight,” Shiro sighed, because there was nothing else he could say. “And you, let yourself have some fun tonight, okay? We’re safe here, these people are friendly and I’m sure you won't have problems with finding a pretty face for yourself.” 

Keith looked at him with a betrayed expression and the need to hug him rose. Shiro bravely fought it down. 

“Go,” he repeated, a bit stronger. “Have fun. You’re young and you need to relax before you explode. ” Then he clarified, so there would be no misunderstandings. “Go and find someone to have sex with. Just don’t cause a political scandal and it’s going to be fine.” 

 

* * *

 

The thing was, Keith wasn’t wrong. And Shiro tried not to admit it, but he knew where the Red was coming from. 

Lance was - popular, across the Universe. Once Voltron started to make its name and the circles on the proverbial water started to spread, the Paladins became a hot commodity. It cowed them, at first, the attention they seemed to be getting whenever they went, whatever they did. 

Shiro got that, he went through something similar back when he was the darling of the Garrison. The starstruck civilians following them with curious glances, the awestruck soldiers seeing their skill and fame before anything else. It was being a prodigy all over again. 

And none of them took it on the chest with such perfect ease as Lance did. Blue Paladin seemed to wait his whole life for the moment when he’s finally acknowledged and revered. And Shiro didn’t mind… not really. Lance needed positive attention like plants needed water and the team wasn’t always good at providing it. Shiro himself wasn’t always good at showing his pride in him, either, because it was such a slippery slope. Once he allowed himself more leeway with showing his emotions, who knows where it would end? 

He was fine with outsourcing that one thing from time to time. 

Well, only that - only that he wasn’t really okay with it, was he?

Oh, he could pretend that he was - as he just did, to calm Keith down and avoid bloodshed. He might have been guilty of performing a few not entirely necessary checkup calls when he knew where Lance was, himself. Just - just to make sure their Blue wasn’t sitting in Galran captivity somewhere on the other side of the Universe. Nothing that could be proven against him of course, Shiro was careful to cover his tracks well. He could pretend that he’s fine with Lance disappearing for hours whenever they docked to resupply. With the throngs of foreign beauties crowding around their teammate whenever he flashed them one of his famous grins. With the way Lance returned on some mornings, smiling and relaxed in a way so unlike his usual lazy slouch, satiated and just -  _ happy _ . 

And that was what ground at Shiro’s nerves. This happiness that Lance was finding outside of the team, outside of his duty, of… Happiness that Keith couldn’t comprehend. In the eyes of the Red Paladin it was akin to betrayal.

Why would you look for anything anywhere that isn’t here? Keith’s Galran instincts seemed to rage. What would be more important than Voltron? 

And Shiro - Shiro was envious. 

Plain and simple. 

But that was neither here nor there, he was at a party, he intended to have fun!

With that decided, Shiro cast one last look to make sure that his Blue and Red don't come into contact with one another, before going back to find his escort again. He was welcomed back with a raised eyebrow, but another kiss to the knuckles was enough to charm his way back into his companion's good graces. 

“Trouble?” They asked, voice a soft purr.

“Kids misbehaving,” he answered smoothly. “Sometimes they need a firm hand to steer them right.”

The face hovering half a foot above him flushed slightly and Shiro hoped it means glad tidings. 

He hoped to get laid tonight. 

 

* * *

 

Shiro didn't get laid. 

Not by the fault of his own, oh no, he was doing well, moving along the right track smoothly. His companion was receptive to all the signals he sent them, towards the end of the party looking downward impatient to get to their own little main event. That is, if the hand wandering up and down Shiro’s back and delicate fingers hooking at his ceremonial belt, pushing it lower and lower on his hips, were any indication. 

(And it made it  _ almost  _ easy to ignore the glimpses he had of Lance strutting around with the Crown Prince hanging on his arm like a blushing prize.) 

Shiro already had the night planned out - from the looks of it, he wasn’t expected to do much; his escort let him know in so many glances that they were alright with leading. Good, he wanted to relax. 

Alas, it wasn’t to be. 

Because, of course, who else would be called by a terrified servant to break up a fight of two Paladins than their leader? 

And that’s how Shiro ended up after midnight in the royal gardens, disheveled and frowning fiercely at the two young men tangled on the ground in front of him, both scrapped and decidedly unhappy. Oh, but not as unhappy as Shiro - not yet, at least, not before he was through with them. 

He pushed one of his eyebrows up when the silence started to stretch and Keith’s hand was still in the air over Lance’s face, with Lance’s fingers tight around Keith’s collar. There was also a very scared Selasian Prince covering in the corner of the terrace they were all disturbing, watching the other two with a wide-eyed stare of distressed incomprehension. There was not enough alcohol in the world that would make Shiro relax tonight. 

“Cadets!” He threw the word out like a knife and both Paladins flinched. 

He didn’t use that one often - and that made it clear to his teammates how serious of a situation they’ve found themselves in. God bless, if he could bare his teeth and growl at them like Black, he would! 

It took the young men a moment to untangle themselves and stand at a slightly crooked attention in front of their Captain. Shiro used that moment to survey the damage. Lance, as usual, got the worst of it, sporting an impressive shiner over his left eye. He also held his side at a slight angle, so Keith probably started out with a roundhouse kick. Keith got a split lip for his trouble and his knuckles looked bruised - something that his Galran metabolism will take care of before the night was over, most probably. 

“He started it!” Lance mumbled out, never patient enough to wait for a dressing down. 

Keith, once prodded, wasn’t much better. “Me?! Oh, that’s rich!” 

“You punched me out of nowhere!” Lance’s eyes darkened with anger, even as one of them was starting to swell. Shiro wanted nothing more than to put something cold against it. “Here I am, making you a favour at the expense of my own good time and…”

“A favour?!” Shiro had to step forward when Keith turned on the Blue Paladin, a hand at the Red’s chest to push him back. “You… you seduced my date away, you asshole!”  

“Guys, down!” Shiro snapped, holding the two apart with his body and himself together with sheer force of will. “You are going to sleep it off and we will talk tomorrow!”

“I got that floozy away, because I got you a better date!” Lance snapped, ignoring Shiro’s attempts to shush him. “There!”

The Crown Prince froze when three pairs of eyes and one tan finger turned on him. A pretty little thing he was, slender and smooth, with dark-blue skin and wide, opalescent eyes. He looked at the Red Paladin and flushed a dark, appealing magenta, lowering his gaze bashfully, long fingers tight on the hem of his layered robe. 

Keith, never the quickest on the uptake, choked.

Lance savoured that reaction. “Crown Prince wanted to meet you in person, I have no idea why.” His words were scathing, but the tone wasn’t. He pulled himself together and ordered his clothes with sharp, jerky moves. “You’re as appealing as a hungry triboret, but who am I to stand in the way of romance?” 

Keith, for his part, was busy with perfecting his best impression of a pillar of salt. 

“Well, now that you went all Galra on me, he may reconsider you as a romantic prospect, but I did all I could. You can close your mouth, fix your ridiculous hair and start apologising to His Highness.”

Shockingly, Keith did just that. 

Shiro was too old for that, really. Could he just have, like, one day without this? Just one? 

“Come on, Shiro. Keith can make a spectacle out of himself without our help.” 

“Ah!” His hand shot out before Lance had a chance to disappear between shifting shadows of the garden. “You’re coming with me, Lance.”

“Aw, come on! I’m fine!” 

 

* * *

 

“I am really fine.” Lance swore - and then promptly hissed when Shiro pressed a cold towel against his face. “Oy, careful!”

“Stay still, then, and let me have a look at that.”  

They were back in Shiro’s room - a deliriously opulent and luxurious suite full to the brink with comforts that Shiro wished he could indulge in. But no, his team came first and so he was perched on the side of his bed, gently dabbing Lance’s shiner with a damp cloth, assessing the damage. 

Tomorrow he will have to have another talk with Keith about the right and wrong methods of conflict resolution and treating one’s teammates. The Red was stronger than Lance, and knew it too, and seeing him use that strength with so little care was disconcerting.   

“Shiro, can I go now?”

“After I take a look at your ribs.” 

“Aw man! There’s nothing wrong with them!”

One poke it took to have the Blue falling to the side with a yelp, into a heap of pain and spitting anger. “Not cool!”  

Shiro had so enough. “Shirt. Up.” 

With a groan worthy of a third-grader, Lance heaved himself up into a sitting position and clumsily lifted all five layers of his official uniform up, baring his torso. Shiro swallowed and did his best to ignore the slender musculature and a stretch of smooth, dusky skin in front of him, trying to focus on the place where said skin looked bruised. A gentle examination proved that there was no broken bones, but the bruise was already darkening and it was a big one. 

Keith better goes early to bed tonight, because the fifty laps around the castle won't run themselves tomorrow.   

“It’s alright,” Lance had the gall to smile at him and pat his hands away when Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “He didn't kick me that hard, it looks worse than it feels. Honest.”

Lance was one of the least emotionally honest members of the team, so Shiro didn't believe him one bit. But he was also an adult who knew his limits and so Shiro couldn't do much to stop him from lowering his shirt down and hiding the injury. 

All that only served to make him feel exhausted. And not a bit angry. Here he was, with a perfect evening laid out in front of him, with a prospect of mind-blowing sex dangling in front of his nose - and all that went to Hell, because Keith and Lance couldn’t communicate like people.

“Wanna tell me what really happened?” Shiro sighed, leaning back against the headboard on his enormous bed. 

Lance shrugged. “I did already. The Prince wanted to chat Keith up, but the dude is as approachable as a wasp and he scared the poor guy away… since I'm such a darling, I was asked to arrange a meeting. Of course, by that time Keith had some lady hanging off of his arm, so I had to take care of that… and instead of asking like a normal person, he went all ronin on me.”

The headache was building. Shiro hoped it’s not an early onset of hangover.

“Well, but that’s now sorted out.”Lance seemed to realise his fatal state and wrapped the story up quicker than he usually allowed himself to. “Hopefully, Kogane will get laid and stop being such a prick for a day or two.”

Shiro couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips at that last one. 

“What?” Lance sounded defensively enough to confirm his suspicion.

“Nothing. I just think it’s nice.”

“Huh?”

“What you did for Keith. It’s a nice thing to do for a friend.”

“Whoa!”And there it was, the reaction he was after. “I did it for the Prince, not that ass!”

“Oh? And here I was, thinking that you’d rather seduce the Prince to spite Keith.”

“I still may!” 

Shiro gazed at the Blue Paladin steadily for a full minute, until Lance groaned and fell back against the fluffy pillows next to him. 

He looked - fragile in that moment. Tired and frail. “He’s so hopeless, man, so very hopeless. He kept sneaking glances at the Prince for the last two days, but did he do anything? No, he spent the time glaring at me and brooding! Someone had to do something!”

Ah, there it was. Lance was their water. He cared about them in his own way, nourished them when they needed it. Sometimes the water was mixed in with some caustic soda, but only when they needed it. 

And Keith certainly needed a kick in the ass from time to time.  

“Thanks for saving me, thought. Sorry, I cost you your date,” Lance mumbled into the bedding, blue eyes staring at Shiro in some soulful haze. “You were hitting it off pretty well back there, too.” 

Wait, Lance was watching him? Why would Lance watch him, Mr Boring, during a party? Moreover, when did he find the time between all his admirers? 

That subject needed to be changed and quick.

“Anyone waiting on you?” He asked, because he liked to hurt himself.  

“Nah. Can’t spend every night in the arms of passion.” 

Shiro watched Lance stretch out like a cat - mindful of the bruises - and tried to ignore the resulting flutter in his chest born from the fact that it was his bed Lance was resting in tonight. 

_ Oh, shut up! _ He scolded the tiny voice in the back of his brain. That meant nothing apart from the fact that Lance trusted him to be decent. 

He was fine with being decent - he even planned to have a bath and change out of his uniform. But, apparently, Selasian wine had a delayed trigger that was slowly disconnecting parts of one’s body without them knowing about it until it was too late.  

By the time Shiro realized that his eyes are about the only thing still working for him, Lance was already dead to the world. He was snoring softly, nuzzled into the pillow, and Shiro used that moment of quiet to take his fill of the rare wonder that was Lance’s sleeping face. Because, Lance  _ was  _ a sight, no matter what. 

God, he was in deep, wasn’t he? 

It would be a bit creepy - to stare at someone from up close like that - if the main reason behind the small distance was the simple fact that Shiro could not move if he fucking tried. That was his limit, the last stop, his body was down and his mind followed at a swift pace. 

But, just for a few moments more, he appreciated the chance to have a taste of something so many others were privy to at a much lower cost. The Blue Paladin sleeping contently by his side, warm and trusting - and unattainable. Not for him. Not while he was the leader of Voltron and had to keep his heart open to all of his Paladins evenly. 

Apparently, the part of the Universe where Lance cleaned up nicely was coincidentally the same part that had Shiro thoroughly fucked over.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
